multifaceted reflections by a woman who only occasionally questions her sanity

Monday, January 4, 2016

The Que Sera Christmas

This post was fresh in my mind over the holiday. Itching to break free and find life in the interwebs... but, alas, I've been sidetracked by pork dumplings, meatballs, and tree demolition. And my current guiltiest pleasure... Blacklist.

I'm going to digress here and there as I attempt to reawaken the phrases that kept running through my mind. Since the poetry escapes me.. I'm going to say it out right.

This was THE most relaxed, non-stressful Christmas I've EVER had.

EVER.

Since my children and the pressures of grown-up life anyway...

And that, my friends, is a BIG deal. BIG.

Even the hubs agreed and said so to others... which means truth. We had a 4-H party at the house the week before. Family over for dinner on Christmas. My modest home had 25 humans in it at one point on Christmas day, and we all fit. And talked and laughed. And I didn't start breathing funny or have to wave my hands around my face in our closet to calm myself. I set no time for dinner. Jason deep-fried a turkey (which didn't freak me out as much as it normally would have), and we ate when we ate. And it all worked out. And it was good.

We did all the usual things. But without my usual meltdown. There is always some kind of meltdown. The Christmas of 2011 will forever hold the place in history as the Christmas of the most epic meltdown.

But somehow, this year was better. The best. And I failed in many ways. There are still some lingering cards that need sent. I never did bake the cookie plates for the neighbors. They must think we hate them. We didn't make the grandparents calendars. I had to work over "break", which is new this year and would normally have stressed me to the max.

We started the month out with a fantastic trip to Southern California to visit family and take the kids to Disneyland. It rocked because we went without a major agenda, focused on the family time, and spent more time exploring LA and museums and trails than searching for theme parks or famous people. Although, I shamelessly posed in front of Shakira's star on Hollywood Boulevard.
Because, SHAKIRA!

Maybe it was the week off with family free from our usual stressors. Maybe it was our approach to the holiday season. We focused on staying calm and doing what we could do. I made like a duck and let the things I missed roll off my back instead of getting under my skin and causing grief. We que sera'd what needed let be and talked to the kids about not expecting as many gifts because of Cali.

This year, like every year, I wanted my kids to really feel the true meaning of Christmas. I wanted to feel the true meaning of Christmas. When Grady prayed one night, "Please give us the strength to remember Christmas is not about the presents", my heart melted.

Just before bed on Christmas Eve, we read a few Christmas books, including my favorite Nativity story, "This is the Stable", and when I prayed with the kids that night, I broke down in tears... but the good kind of tears. The tears just rolled when the enormity of Baby Jesus hit me and I couldn't breathe imagining the heavenly hosts and the reality of birth in a stable. It's humbling and powerful and indescribable.

And Jason got that look in his eye when he came around the corner and saw me crying for no apparent reason. The PTSD meets "husband who wants to fix things"look. He got a chuckle out of me trying to explain why baby Jesus and the angels was making me cry happy tears.... but I could tell he was relieved.

This was the best Christmas EVER because somehow we let it be what it was.